What I Never Thought I Could Be
by rockydd47
Summary: (Based on one of our authors) Clarissa Morgenstern, a closed girl, suffered from a disease so severe, her family moved a whole continent to raise her self-esteem... Every year, a guy named Jace had at least one class with her, but they were never friends. Clary's friends warn her of his reputation as they come together as friends. Will she defend Jace? Or believe her friends?
1. Prologue (It's ok to skip this chapt)

** SO! NEW STORY! All characters here do not belong to us, but the wonderful author, Cassandra Clare.**

** A more detailed summary: _Clarissa Morgenstern was an outcast back when she was in Asia. Being around Asians when she was completely white; atheist. Her friends were fake, and yet, they meant a lot to her. Due to her severe eczema which brought her self-esteem to the lowest of levels, her single mother brought Clarissa and her brother, Jonathan to the most quietest and multicultural country she could think of. Canada. Once her school life started up again, her eczema had healed slightly and she was confident that she could actually talk to people and make friends for the first time in years. The first friend she made was a flawless girl, Isabelle Lightwood. Gradually, she made more friends that didn't care about her eczema, but what was on the inside. Jocelyn had forced Clary to take a Drama course through her high school life to boost up her self-esteem. She starts to gradually notice a golden figure, and learnt of his name; Jace Herondale. They began to get to know each other, until her friends warned her that he was a womanizer and toyed with girls, then ditched them in the dirt. Clary didn't listen. The pair of friends fought until he found out that Clary had a 'true' crush on him. He didn't want her to get hurt by him, but nobody he asked for help believed him. _**

**_ How is Clary going to cope with her emotions? Will her friendships fall apart? Or will they bring her closer to the people she thought she never knew?_**

**Based on a true story. An ongoing life even from this day. Inspired by one of the writers. Surprisingly, all of the characters fit perfectly in her life!**

* * *

She wanted to cry, but her eyes wouldn't let her. Her body was strong enough to handle the pain. She had gone through this multiple times; it wasn't like she never felt this before.

Clarissa woke up to a dark sky, swallowing up her happy mood; not that it began positively to say the least. She slowly brought up a red stained hand to her face, touching the tender skin for a tear. Dry. Dry like sandpaper, was the entire surface of her skin. It hurt to move, to bend her elbows, to bend her knees, to rotate her head and/or neck; to walk, to speak, to change into different clothes; even to shower.

"Clarissa?" came a voice next to her. An aching pain shot through her whole body as she turned her whole body to face her brother. "It's worse…" said Jonathan. She blinked twice looking into his eyes, then looked away. "I'm getting Mum."

Fear overcame her she desperately held his gaze. She blinked once. _No._

"Clarissa, please. We can't go on like this." Jonathan got off his single bed next to hers and walked over to hers. She was resisting the urge to plead, but the skin on her face was rock solid. She could only mumble.

From her bedside table, Jonathan reached for a bottle of cream and lightly, as if his fingers were feathers, smoothed some over her face. The coldness of the white cream made Clary shiver. Only for a few minutes would she be able to talk.

"Don't go to her," Clarissa pleaded. "Please."

"If we go on like this, we may not have enough to last, Clarissa. It's the 4th time. And if so, 5th…" With a deep breath, her brother looked up at the clock hung up on the ceiling. "You've had too many steroids to heal you. They work, but only temporarily, and you know how much they cost, what they do to you, what they do with your growth…"

That was true. Clarissa was a midget, smaller than the average mid-teenager of 12. She could be mistaken for an 8 year old.

"It'll just worry her more. Don't make her…" She struggled to face her brother, but had no choice. She had to.

"No, Clarissa. No more of this. I'm tired of having to see you like this every morning. We're going to the dermatologist. _Today_. Screw school. You're in no condition to attend."

"But I've been going everyday…" She attempted to sit up, then failed and decided to stay lying down; the blankets clamped between her neck and head.

"Yes, and I'm sorry to break it to you, but the more you hide, the more attention you attract. You stand out more than you think you do; trying to cover up every inch of skin you have." Her heart broke and Jonathan's words, but they were the truth. He never lied.

"But Mum has enough to handle. We can't just-"

"Yes," said her brother fiercely. "We can."

"But-" she stopped herself from going on any further as the cream around her face was almost all absorbed and she couldn't move the flesh around her face anymore.

"Don't protest. I'm waking her up."

"It's 6 in the morning!" She struggled to finish her sentence which Jonathan clearly saw through and ignored it as if he didn't understand her.

_Knock! Knock!_

_ No!_ Thought Clarissa. _Not today… or any day. Please?_

_ "_Mum?" came Jonathan's most innocent voice. The door opened instantly. "You heard?"

"Get Sophie to help her dress."

_No. She's awake._ cursed Clarissa.

"Yes, Mum." Jonathan walked over to their maid, Sophie Collins. She was in her mid-forties and had taken care of the family since Clarissa was in Year 1.

"I know," said Sophie as she got up from her place in the kitchen. "May I… um… Can I-"

"Sophie, you need no to ask." Clarissa heard her brother step closer to their maid. "You mean as much to us as another blood member of the family." Sophie began to sob. Clarissa could hear it. She wanted to cry herself, but forced the tears away. She had done too much crying in the past. It was time for her to stop.

"Jonathan, what will become of her? I can't imagine…"

"Shh, shh… everything will be okay," her brother cooed.

"And you?"

"My skin isn't as bad as hers. I'll be okay." The two stayed together for quite some time, Clarissa noticed, until they separated it had been the least of 2 minutes. "Go get her dressed. I'll make breakfast."

"Thank you," said Sophie, firmly holding the 14 year old teenager in place.

"Any time."

Clarissa heard Sophie's light footsteps come closer to their bedroom. It was a nice apartment that had cost plenty, but the walls were practically paper thin.

Sophie and Clarissa locked eyes. Clarissa's green eyes cracked. Sophie instantly went over to the small girl, helping her sit up and pulling her close to her shoulder. Clarissa couldn't hold back the tears around Sophie. She always fell apart when she was around.

"Please tell me you're going to be there," the tiny redhead begged. "Please."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Sophie tucked the 12 year old girls' head under her chin, lightly giving her a kiss on the top of her head. "Come on. I promise I'll be as fast as I can."

"I love you," Clarissa murmured in a small voice.

"Always," Sophie replied, a tear streaking her face from the corner of her left eye.

* * *

"I'm afraid you're going to have to stay for a few weeks," said the dermatologist in front of her. Professor Starkweather had been her dermatologist for the past 3 years. He healed her at first, but her condition gradually became more severe.

"I expected so," muttered Clarissa, her head ducked down, but her eyes directly at the man in front of her. She refused to break down in his office.

"May I have a word with you, privately?" asked Professor Starkweather. The whole family lay their eyes on her.

"Of course," she muttered. Sophie gently slid her off her lap and sat her down in the chair she sat on. The rest of the family exited the office without question. Jonathan made a last look at her before leaving the office and shutting the door silently. Clarissa would have looked back, it her neck weren't swollen and the surface of her skin weren't an open wound.

"I know I've been trying to help you for years now," the professor started, "and I've made incredible discoveries with you. The ability to be infected by two viruses, and curing it simultaneously. I've become rich because of you, but I don't do this for the money. I do it to help people like you, because I've gone through this myself." The professor took off his Harry Potter like glasses and set them down on the table. "I fear, Hong Kong isn't the place for you, Clarissa." At this she looked up, her red locks falling to the sides of her face. "The pollution is making this worse, I can see it. It's happening to me as well. I don't want you to have to wake up crying, to not be able to participate in regular activities like a regular teenager. I don't want you to have to worry about your appearance and skin more than your education and your future. I think it is best if you… If you moved to a better place."

"But… I grew up here. Everything I _know_ is here." Clarissa griped onto the hem of her jacket. It was 35 degrees and she was still wearing thick jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, and a jacket. The eczema was so severe it gave her shivers even if she was standing in a desert.

"It has come to mind, Clarissa, that your mother may know a better place for you. One you may not know of well, but have memories of."

She thought back, back to when she was just a child. She saw pictures of her infant days in albums where eczema had no affect on her. It was as if she was a normal child. There were pictures of her in the backyard of a house, playing in the grass, laughing… smiling. Happy.

_Canada, _she thought.

"That's a wonderful place," said Professor Starkweather. It took her a moment to realize she had said that aloud. It sounded _so_ cliché.

"I can't just pack up my things and _move_ there permanently!"

"I understand that you must discuss this with your family; but please, think about it? It's not that I want to send you away, but I think this is for the better, Clarissa. I hope you understand that."

_He genuinely cares. I never thought I'd actually see that in such a strict looking man._

"And if you were to follow through with moving to a more… appropriate area, I want to pay for the plane tickets and the house you live in."

"_Pardon?_" She was in shock? Her head fully up now, looking straight into the Professors' eyes.

"As I had said, you made me rich. You turned me to be one of the happiest men alive. I've been able to provide my wife and kids the perfect life. The least I could do is make yours a better one."

"I'll talk to them about it. About your suggestion."

"Thank you. Please, see where I'm coming from."

"I do," she replied with a silent sigh. Professor Starkweather pressed a button on his desk and the mahogany door to his office opened. The family came back in.

"I presume you know the way?" asked the professor as he handed out a form to the midget redhead.

"Off by heart."

* * *

**1) Should we involve Shadowhunters?**

**2) Should we continue?**

**3) Is it incredibly boring?**

**Sorry if this is a confusing prologue. If you want us to explain a bit more, tell us through the reviews of something! PM, favourite, follow. We swear, this is just the beginning. It might sound boring and formal-ish now, but it'll get better. We'll have some chapters with POV's and maybe even a few sections of diary entries. We'll try to think of something. Thank you :)**


	2. That Escalated Quickly (Ok to skip)

**Okay, we're just gonna keep writing while waiting for some responses :)**

**Warning: Blood, knives, and needles, involved. Skip some parts if you don't want to read it.**

Clarissa lay asleep on her hospital bed, wrapped up like a mummy with wet clothes to keep her skin hydrated overnight; from the tips of her toes to the nape of her neck.

"Sophie, are you sure you'll be all right?" the puffy eyed maid nodded and wished the mother and son goodnight as they left the emergency ward.

Clarissa had passed out after having 3 different needles poked in each hand. The doctors and nurses attempted to find a vein within her red and swollen hand, but they couldn't do so without pressing the needle into the flesh. The poor girl sat on her mothers' lap, but even she couldn't take the sight of the process when the 2nd needle came to view. Clarissa sat on Sophie's lap for the rest. _That's my girl_, thought Sophie. _As strong as steel._

* * *

For the next few days, Clarissa was finally beginning to heal. She didn't have to move around from a wheelchair with a remote control stick. She could walk freely, but couldn't exit the ward. All through this, she hadn't mentioned what Professor Starkweather had suggested. He had come to check up on her the most. He even brought in a gift for her; Red Studio Beats by Dr. Dre.

"Just in case you can't sleep at night," he had said. The look in his eyes said it all. He wanted her to heal. He felt proud of the 12 year old girl as he supervised the blood testing and daily routines. He wasn't allowed to interfere, but he could award the girl with a much deserved gift.

Soon, Clarissa could jump, dance, and focus on her education. She thanked the professor as she was dismissed from the hospital and was sent home. She felt confident to wear t-shirts and shorts; but, it wasn't long before those happy next few days turned into aching pain and crying to sleep at night.

"He said _what_?" Jonathan exclaimed at the dinner table. "I knew it was bad, but I didn't know it was _that_ bad!"

"Jonathan, please, keep your voice down," said their mother, Jocelyn.

"I… don't want to leave, but I've had enough time to think about it," Clarissa started. Her small voice echoed through the apartment. "I think… I think it would be best if we… if we moved."

"_Are you serious_?" Jonathan's eyes went wide.

"Well… I've been going through this for years and I… I just can't take it anymore. I barely go to school, I don't have good friends, and all I _can_ do is sit at home and gauge my eyes out with tears. What do you expect me to do? I can't live like this for the rest of my life!" Clarissa's voice gradually rose to an extent of standing up and slamming her utensils down on the table. Glad she finished dinner before raging, she limped to her bedroom from her inability to bend her knees and locked the bedroom door before breaking down in private.

Slowly, she took the knife hidden in her underwear drawer and slit her wrists deeply. There were multiple scars there. Ones she could easily cover up with bracelets. But this scar. This one would be different. It would cut so deep it'd be thicker and more evident.

"Give her some space now, Jonathan," said Jocelyn in a monotone voice. Clarissa heard the sound of a grunt and a chair sliding across the tile floor. She sighed. The dipped the knife against her skin then quickly slashed it once. She was prepared for this. She ripped some gauge hidden beneath her undergarments and addressed the wound. No one knew of this but Sophie. Sophie had tried to stop her, then realized there wasn't another way to let her release her anger, but on herself. She still tried and forced her to promise that she wouldn't do it just from the littlest of things. Clarissa promised. What just happened out there _wasn't_ a little thing. It was huge.

Her body fell underneath the comfort of her blankets. She didn't even both switching off the lights. With her eyes closed, it reminded her of watching a sunset. Something no one could see through the buildings of Hong Kong. It was a wish that she hoped to fulfill one day.

_One month later…_

"You're moving?" asked one of Clarissa's friends. She could see that they were trying to fight a smile. She ignored it.

"Yeah. To Canada."

"Oh, that's too bad," said one of them. "Well, I'm gonna to my locker. See you next period!" The rest of the gang followed that one friend to her locker, leaving Clary sitting alone in the cafeteria, eating nothing, but drinking water.

* * *

_June 15th, 2012._

"I… I'm going to miss you so much." Clarissa began to stain tears on Sophie's old t-shirt.

"I'll see you soon. One day."

"I love you," said Clarissa, standing outside the lift.

"Always." Just then, the elevator doors opened.

Jonathan was going to stay behind with Sophie to pack last minute items. He was going to have to man up and sign forms, box everything, and continue going to school until summer vacation. He had friends here, in fact, he was quite popular. He saw the his little sister struggled to realize that eczema didn't take away any abilities. It was just… her. She refused to believe that her life could get better because of the state she was already in. He could only hope that moving to a whole entirely different continent was going to heal her completely.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm starting my first entry today. It's a whole new start for me. We're on the plane and it's going to be around 15-18 hours flight. I'm not sure what I'm going to do for such a long time, but I'll figure it out. Sophie isn't coming to Canada with us because of some immigration agency thing. Apparently, I'm too young to understand. She'll be working for my grandmother, Adele Nightshade-Fairchild. Mum is still a Fairchild, I just took after Daddy's last name. I don't know what happened to him, but I dare not to ask. I'm not going to miss all the snobby British sounding people I knew back in Hong Kong. I'll miss some, but not all. They aren't worth it, but they taught me something. There are good and bad people in this world; I just want to figure out which side I'm on._

_ Wow, that's deep. _

_ Jonathan doesn't look happy that we're moving. He's pretty popular in Hong Kong. He actually is _very_ attractive despite his mild eczema. Mine is too severe that it doesn't compare to his in any way. _

_ I hope moving to Canada is the right choice. I've heard it's actually got clear blue skies and no tall buildings. Well, there's some, but that'd be downtown. Where Mum is taking me is uptown, Richmond Hill, ON. I've seen pictures and it seems like a nice place. I hope Mum has everything planned out. I know she has. She wouldn't set me up on a plane and go to a place foreign to both her and I. She's given up her job for me. We're moving to a different _continent_ because of me. I feel like I'm ruining everyone's lives. I can only hope that we're moving to change things for the better, not for words._

_ ~Clarissa Adele-Fairchild Morgenstern_

_._

* * *

**_How's that? Short, we know, but the action is going to happen in no time soon. This is just the build-up on character and stuff, ya know? Tell us if we should make this less… formal sounding. It can bore readers out. Tell us about the Shadowhunter thing though. We might edit the chapters a little if we were to add them in :)_**


	3. Freshman

**_ cathclacemaddian: You're our first reviewer and we thank you sooooo much! We've received a few helpful PM's but we think yours is the most encouraging :) There will be Clace. Just a little heads up ;)_**

* * *

_Clarssia sat in her new bedroom. Purple walls, a queen sized bed, a few posters, her own bathroom, and she even got the connecting side of the twinning room for a study since the queen sized bed was too big to fit a desk in the same room._

_ Professor Starkweather wasn't kidding about paying for the house and plane tickets. It was… a dream._

_The family had spent the last 2 months through summer to unpack, repack, and connect with old family. Clarissa remembered some, but not all. She acted like she knew them, remembered them, but wasn't that what everyone did to save themselves the embarrassment?_

_ "Go to sleep, honey," said Jocelyn from the door. She had on a silk robe whilst her daughter was in a t-shirt and cotton shorts._

_ "Yes, Mum." On her way out, Jocelyn switched off the lights and closed the door. It was Clarissa's first day of school tomorrow. She couldn't be any more scared than she already was. Were the people here like the ones back home? Did they fake everything? Act like British snobs? The stereotypical kind? Clarissa had an accent, but that was natural. It came from her mother and going to an international school in HK. What was going to happen to her?_

* * *

That was 2 years ago. Clarissa was now a 14 year old teenager who had friends that didn't care about her eczema, but her well-being in general. They loved her for who she was. It didn't matter what clothes she wore or her accent. She was cared for, and that was all she ever wanted.

"Hey," said Jonathan from the doorway. Moving to Canada had done him good. He built up a six-pack with V-lines, fixed up his fashion sense a little, and become more athletic, and was now on the Student Council. He even managed to get a girlfriend, though they weren't serious enough yet for him to bring her home.

"What's up?" asked Clary as she zipped up her schoolbag. Today she was fashioning skinny jeans, brown riders boots, a white long t-shirt with a red rose in the middle, and a purple-blue striped cardigan.

"Well, it's the start of high school for you and um… I just thought I'd wish you good luck."

"I think… well, thanks." Clary's head was down. She decided to leave her hair so it could cover her face. That was how it always was.

"Hey, don't stress. I'll be there if you need me. I'd be glad to introduce my little sister to my friends." Clarissa smiled. Jonathan had good friends, she knew. It was as if they were picked out to join him and his amazing leadership.

"Thanks."

"And you get to ride in my _aweeessoommmee_ car." Right, Professor Starkweather paid for Jonathan's car since he didn't get much attention from him, then figured he deserved a little something for sacrificing his life in HK for his sister.

"Be there in 10," she said, then went down the stairs of their house to the kitchen to grab an apple. Blood red.

* * *

It was lunch and Clarissa had made her first friend. She didn't have any friends during elementary. She blocked them all out. Her mother insisted for her to change and give everyone a chance. So she was going to try.

"Isabelle," said Clarissa.

"Call me Izzy, or Iz. Only people I hate call me Isabelle," the flawless girl winked.

"Do you- by any chance- happen to have any siblings?" she continued.

"Yeah. My brother Alec, and adoptive brother Jace. They're both dickheads so you might not wanna get close to them."

"But, they seem nice to me. They're quite close with my brother, Jonathan. I've met them a few times."

"Your brother's Jonathan? The one with _really_ nice hair and is on the Student Council?" Clarissa nodded. "Clarissa. God that's a mouth full. I need to think of a nickname for you." Izzy paused for a second. "Your brother… he's _amazing_ like, the most perfect person EVER!"

"I'm glad you think so," Clarissa giggled.

"Can I meet him one day?" Izzy made it sound like she was getting a VIP pass to meet a famous celebrity in their own dressing room.

"Sure… you could um… you could come over today if you want…"

"Yes! Thank you!" Izzy started to finish off her lunch in 2 seconds flat. Clarissa didn't bring anything to eat. "I'm taking you to meet someone. I think you two would hit it off _really_ well."

"Hit it off?"

"Not like that. I mean, best friends. You two have a lot in common. Date him, you die. He's mine." Clearly, this too-beautiful-to-describe girl had her eyes set on someone. But who could possibly be best friends with her? She didn't share _anything_ about her past, except she lived in Hong Kong. That was it!

"Okay?" Clarissa's arm instantly shot up with force by her new friend and towards a crowd of nerds. They were all having a discussion on pokéball in the main foyer on the floor.

"Guys, this is Clarissa. Clarissa, these are the Guys."

"Hi," said Clary with a small smile.

"And this is Simon Lewis, the leader of the group." _So she likes thiiiss guy. Wow. A little nerdy, but she could fix him up if she wanted to. I'm guess she doesn't want to and finds his neediness somehow attractive, _thought Clarissa.

"Hey, Clarissa. God that's a mouth full. Can I call you Clary?" _I swear these two are perfect for each other. _

"Sure," she replied with a small voice.

"Clary! OMG that's the best nickname _ever!" _Isabelle exclaimed. Clarissa just stood there, trying to get use to the people around her. They were so open, and she was closed. _very_ closed. She didn't know how she was going to survive.

* * *

It was the period after lunch and she was in Drama class. She didn't want to go. Not at all. She would trade that course for anything. Extra Math, extra Science, better yet, she'd trade it for Art. Art, the one thing in her life that stayed constant. There was no possible way she'd give up that light.

The class sat in a circle so everyone could see one another; except Clary had her eyes set on only one guy. Everyone had their eye on him. Every girl in the class gossiped about him, some guys, being the jealous people they are. His looks were the most breathtaking thing in the world.

Once the teacher ,which everyone had still yet to learn the name of, walked in, she told everyone to introduce themselves as they went around the circle. Their name, preferred name if they had one, and an interesting fact about themselves. Damn.

Clary paid no attention to the class except for a few names; but, once it landed on the boy she wanted to know the name of, her eyes and ears locked on him.

"As everybody knows, my name is Jace Herondale and I am the most attractive person out there." Clary rolled her eyes. Jace seemed to catch it.

Once it got to Clary, she said, "I'm Clarissa Morgenstern. You can call me Clary, and I…" she thought of the one thing that embarrassed her the most which was probably not the best idea at the time, but it could have been worse. "have a British accent… sometimes." She did her best to rid of it, fake it even, but it wasn't working very much.

(Jace's head tilted up at the word 'British.' His weakness was accents. Not everyone knew that, but this Clary girl would soon find out.)

The rest of Drama class was full of random games that got people to remember each others names. Clary could remember the majority of the class… but she remembered Jace's the most.

Once the bell rang that signalled the end of class, she thought back to what Isabelle had said during lunch…

_"Yeah. My brother Alec and adoptive brother Jace…"_ Jace. It couldn't be _this_ Jace? But how common could the name Jace be? Not very.

Clary had time to think about this for the last period of the day. She shared no classes with Isabelle, but had 2 with Simon. It was an… okay first day of high school; being a freshman and all. One thing that was unsettling to her were those golden eyes. It was just that. She desperately wanted to draw them, but since she took Drama instead of Art, she'd have no excuse for having a sketchpad with her 24/7.

"You ok?" asked Izzy as they met up by their lockers. They were exactly right next to each other. It was how they first met.

"Yeah," replied Clary as she dumped her empty binders into her locker.

"We're having a talk once we get to your place." It was right then when Clary knew what was going to happen. _Shit's gonna go downnnnnn.  
_

* * *

**_As said, this is just the build up. We're gonna skip ahead a couple of years to when they're 16 so it makes more sense. Just saying, this is like a diary to one of our writers. It'll be as accurate as possible. We are also going to add Shadowhunters into this. Please review, favourite, and follow!_**


	4. Sparring and Slipping

**_Two chapters, one day. WHOOOOP! We just can't wait to get to the good parts :P Please review :)_**

* * *

_"_How's Drama?" asked Clarissa's Mum from her bedroom door. It had been another 2 years and still, Clary was the same as always; quite, low self-esteem, but the best artist imaginable.

"Not helping," replied Clary, boredom clear in her voice. Jocelyn sighed. She was going out tonight. A date. She had talked to Clary and Jonathan before agreeing to go on a date with him though. She wanted her children to approve a man she was going to be with before getting to the serious parts of the relationship, if it ever got that far.

"Isabelle?"

"She's been attempting to set me up with some boys."

"Has it worked out?" Jocelyn's eyes were full of hope. It turned to be short lived.

"Nope. She isn't giving up easily though."

"You're 16. Live a little, ok? While you still can?" Clarissa opened her eyes up at her mother. They looked quite alike. Red hair, green eyes, too skinny but healthy for their own good… yup. Definitely mother and daughter.

A few hours later, Jonathan knocked on Clary's door and opened it through the silence. She was in her study room, working on a new oil painting on her art easel. It was… Jace. She had attempted to paint, sketch, draw, colour, and even sculpt him, but to no avail. It was _impossible. _His bone structure, posture, tousled hair… she couldn't get the tiny details right, no matter how hard she tried.

The tiny redhead attempted to hide the oil painting, but with no luck.

"That's really good," complimented Jonathan, "but if you're gonna start to date him, be careful. He's a real player." Jonathan often hung out with Jace and Alec. Though they were younger than him, they all acted the same age.

"I won't. Not my type," said Clary. It was true. They were complete opposites. Style included. Jace wore mostly black, contrasting to his golden features. Clary wore lighter clothes, purple, red, and white, mostly.

"Funny you say that," Jonathan scoffed.

"Excuse me?" Clary placed her oil painting brushes down on the newspaper in front of her and stared at her brother with curiosity.

"Maureen. Remember her?" Of course she did. They had 3 classes together. Jonathan didn't wait for his sister to give an answer. "Well, she told me you have been sharing some 'eye contact' with him across the Drama classroom for a while."

Clary's mouth went agape. What? No? She had only been catching a few glimpses of him. Nothing good. Nothing good enough for her to develop a crush on him or anything. She just found him attractive like every other girl thought.

"We just know each other as classmates. I wouldn't know him any better than that," said Clary with vigour in her voice.

"Then why are you drawing him like a Shadowhunter? Or should I say, angel?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow at the oil painting. Yes, it was of Jace, but he looked different than normal. Black angel wings sprawled out widely, his clothes all black but a white wife beater underneath. His body radiated a gold light that lit up a dark room from brown to black on the sides. His eyes were sharp, almost broken. His cheekbones were well defined, and so was the muscles along his arms and abdomen.

"I…"

"Come on. I think you need to blow off some steam."

"I've got no steam I need to blow off," Clarissa pouted.

"Yes, but you might want to blow _something. _Preferably around 6-8 inches, 1 and a half to 2 inches in diameter…"

"Jonathan!" Clary smacked her brother playfully on the arm. "I don't need to train," she said frustratingly.

"No, you don't want to," confirmed Jonathan. He paused for a second, thinking of something deep to say so Clarissa would loosen up. "Dad trained us to be one of the best Shadowhunters to _ever_ live. I'm positive that you use your stele now too."

The redhead bent her head down to the carpeted floor and shifted her feet slightly.

"By the angel… you haven't." Jonathan scanned his sister carefully for a minute. No, not a single rune on her skin in sight. Not even the tiniest black mark in sign of attempt. None.

It wasn't that she didn't want to, she afraid to. She did have her first runes at the right time and age, but once her eczema kicked in, she forbid herself to use her stele. There was no room on her skin to draw a rune without touching the open blisters, red rashes, or even the nails slits or where she scratched herself.

"Come here." Jonathan pulled his sister in for a hug. He hadn't realize this for 3 fucking years. He understood that the first year of them being in Canada, she was still adjusting; but, he expected her to start using her stele once again after the second year or so.

"Clarissa, we're unique Shadowhunters. We can't just throw away what we've been trained to do for years now. Until… _that_ came up. Come on, train with me?" _He called me Clarissa. He's always done that. Even when people started to call me Clary, he always called me Clarissa. I love that :) It's like how I call him Jonathan when everyone calls him Jon. _

"I haven't done that for years, Jonathan. I don't think I can… not anymore."

"Hey, look at me." Her green eyes lifted up to see Jonathan's dark orbs. "We aren't _normal_ Shadowhunters, Clarissa. If we don't train, we might as well go die in a hole." She took this in for a minute. Not that she pointed this out or anything, but she never went into the basement. That was the training area which she forbade herself to go. It would have just brought back memories.

"Ok." That was all she said.

* * *

Clarissa lightly walked down the basement steps and towards the training area. There were sets of archers bows and arrows, knives, swords, gear, extra steles, and even mundane weapons. To the side were the mundane items. Sure, there were guns and lasers, but Jonathan created the bullets out of the Iron Sister's metal, and being the smartass he is, he modified the wires in the lasers to be able to slice intangible demons in two.

"So, what do you wanna start with first?"

Clarissa's mind just completely blanked out as she walked towards the gear wardrobe. Inside were her Shadowhunting clothes from when she was 2 and all the way to when she was 10; the age she forced herself to stop Shadowhunting to benefit her eczema. At the end of the rack was brand new gear she never tried on, but seemed to be tailored just for her.

Looking down at the wardrobe, she saw a beautiful box with curves and victorian like waves carved into it. There was a lock on it, which only she knew how to _un_lock. Her blood. Silently, she brought up a nail to her index finger, slicing the flesh neatly. Gently, she pressed the slightly bleeding finger to the top of the box. The blood started to disperse evenly around the carved wood, and reached the locks within the box. With a click, the box was unlocked. Clarissa carefully licked the cut then opened the old box. She gasped at the object inside.

Her stele.

The emerald green and dark purple stele sat untouched on red velvet. There was metal leaves and vines come from the top and blended in with the coloured crystal in the middle. The tip was as sharp as always, perfect for drawing runes in an emergency.

With her left hand, she carefully took it up, holding it steadily, then drawing her first rune on the base of her right wrist. The Angelic Rune. The one that gave her light. Once the rune was finished, she felt herself brighten, as if she could radiate light like Jace was in her oil painting.

"Wow…" she sighed in awe. The skin was raw around the rune, but it made her feel most alive nonetheless. Jonathan smiled proudly at his little sister. She was finally becoming happier. After years of being in Canada, he had never seen his sister's face truly light up. Today was that day he finally got to see it happen.

"Draw a few more," he insisted. She didn't have to be told twice. Along her arms now were runes she had created when she was a child. Stronger ones that didn't need to be drawn multiple times because they were enhanced enough.

"Thank you," She whispered into her brothers' ear when she was done. Jonathan held her in a tight embrace. It was a moment that lasted a while.

"Go change. We're going to be training for a _while_." Cue the wink. She just nodded and grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe. She quickly dressed in the bathroom to tight workout shorts and a sports bra. She tied her hair up into a pony tail with a few strands loose. She remembered what it was like when going out demon hunting. Her hair would screw up somehow and fall in her face. She was going to make this training session count.

As she walked out of the bathroom, she saw her brother dressed in a workout t-shirt and shorts that went to his knees. He was sparring the air with a seraph blade at the moment. She eyed his movements until she saw he was done with hits warmup and coughed.

"Why do you have to be my sister?" asked Jonathan as he shook his head, but still held a smile.

"Uh… Is this too much?" she asked suddenly feeling self-conscious about wearing such revealing clothing in front of her brother.

"Nope, I think I know someone who might appreciate it though…"

"Don't. Go. There," she warned. They both had a stare down then laughed at each other.

"Wanna spar with me?" Clarissa nodded and looked at her options along the weapons rack against the walls. Her fingers trailed along the rack, skipping the knives, the whips, the Japanese weapons (katana, naginata, etc…), and stopped at the crystal swords. She pulled a seraph blade out. It looked slightly used, but that was because it was her first weapons, not including the stele. Her father gave it to her as a present on her 5th birthday. It was specifically made for her; lighter than any other blade, a grip fit for her small hand. A blade that would modify itself as she grew older and developed as a Shadowhunter.

"Good choice," said Jonathan behind her. He pulled a black blade out. Hm. It was just like Clary's, but made for him in the same ways as the white blade she held was for her. "Now, let's see if you still remember what we've done for the majority of our lives at this point."

The siblings circled each other, trying to figure out each others' tactics. It wasn't long before Jonathan gave the first strike. Clarissa didn't falter, she merely stayed calm and let her reflexes kick in. The runes she drew on her arms were boiling in her veins. They were finally being put to use.

Quickly, Clarissa did what her father had first taught her to do. An aerial. With luck, her feet hit Jonathan right on the chest. It made him stumble backwards, but if it were in real battle, she'd try harder.

"Are we using the weapons or what?" Jonathan waved his seraph blade in the air.

"Do me a favour and attack me straight on." Clary had no clue where the newfound strength of asking for what she wanted so directly came from, but it felt good. Jonathan shrugged and followed on with the favour. Clary side stepped, gripped his arm, blocked his second attack with her blade, and pinned him on the ground like her daddy taught her. Perfect.

"Okay, lets get back to sparring," she giggled.

"Oh, you're on."

The two had it on for at least another hour before they heard coughing in the background. It, however, wasn't their mother.

"I didn't expect such an innocent and quiet redhead like you to be a Shadowhunter, Clarissa. Or wear _that_ either."

The midget girl gave a gasp at who stood in front of her. Jace Herondale in all his golden glory.

"I didn't know you two were related?" Jonathan smacked his forehead against his seraph blade.

"You've known me for 3 years!" He exclaimed.

"Some amount of time I've known Clary." Jace raised an eyebrow at her. "Tell me, Clary, does Isabelle know about this?" She shook her head and blinked once. _No_. "Wow, I'm ashamed. Your own best friend who shares the _exact_ same secret as you, doesn't know who you_ really_ are. I thought you'd be more honest than that." Jace tutted and shook his head. He was just mocking her, she knew that. It was nothing more than him being Jace Herondale.

Clarissa stayed silent. She went to pick up her stele and was about to take the blade upstairs until she felt a _presence _behind her. It was foreign and _definitely_ not supposed to be that close. She quickly turned around, pointing the tip of the blade at the Adams apple of the golden _man_ behind her.

"Step any closer and that shitty dickhead face of yours is gonna be fucked up with blood and burned in hell." She never swore so many times in one sentence before, let alone sweated or cursed at all. The farthest she had gone was saying 'crap' but that was it!

"Woah, didn't know you could talk like that either." Jace instantly stepped back with his hands up.

"Jonathan," she turned to her brother. "thank you for bringing me down here. I'll see you at dinner."

She started to make her way towards the basement steps with her clothes until she heard,

"I was sitting on that couch over there for a whole _hour_ trying to figure out who you were sparring with. And hot _dddaayum_, I thought that girl was _innocent_!"

Clarissa had no clue where her recently discovered confidence came from, but she just had to yell back, "Innocent my ass!"

* * *

**Review?**


	5. Secrets Revealed

**Any more reviewers? We're receiving awesome PM's for us to continue, but no reviews and or favourites and follows! PLLLLEEAAASEE DO IT! We sound desperate, we know, it comes with starting a new story :P**

**SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE BTW!**

* * *

Clarissa continuously drew runes on her sketchpad and some useful ones along her arms. The green-purple stele was her childhood. With the runes she could create at the snap of a finger, she'd be unstoppable. She would have been able to stop her father from leaving home and killing himself by summoning demons… but no. He just had to attempt the most dangerous practice known to the Shadow World. Clarissa had avoided it as much as she could, but after training and having a stele back in her hands, she couldn't let go of it.

"You're gonna pass out eventually from putting on so many runes at once," warned Jonathan as he watched his sister mark herself with runes from the waist and up.

"No, I'm not. I feel great."

"Maybe a little _too_ great. It's late, and you're going to be up all night."

"Knockout rune," Clary said smartly.

"More and more runes…" Jonathan said, shaking his head but smiling all the same.

"Goodnight, Jonathan," sang Clary as she tucked herself under the covers of her bed.

"Night, Clarissa. And um… I'm sorry about Jace by the way. I'll make sure he doesn't tell anyone." He must have noticed the slight anger in her darkened green eyes.

"Thank you."

* * *

Clary went to school the next day wearing a cardigan to cover up her freshly drawn runes. The skin around them weren't as raw as they were the previous day, at least.

As she started to pick up her binders from her locker, she felt Izzy's anger radiating off of her. It was even more evident as she slammed Clary's locker shut and forced her to look into her eyes by shoving her shoulders.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" she practically yelled across the hallway for people to hear. _Jace must have let it slip. I'm gonna kill both Jace _and_ Jonathan later._

"Tell you about?" Acting clueless was getting her nowhere. It was making everything worse.

"This!" Isabelle grabbed Clary's wrist and slid up her cardigan. Her eyes scanned the runes. In shock, Izzy shoved the sleeve back down with a tiny inch just peeking out.

"That's not in the book…" Isabelle was confused. "How do you have a rune that's _not_ in the book?!" She whisper shouted.

Clary hesitated. She didn't know how to answer her without giving her secrets away. Izzy was going to find out one way or another…

"I'll tell you somewhere else; anywhere, but here." Her voice was quiet, too quiet that it seemed she was just moving her mouth and no sound came out.

Izzy dragged her into one of the empty washrooms opposite their lockers.

"Now talk!" she demanded.

"Long story short, now dead dad gave my subconscious mother angel blood in her food while she was pregnant with me. The blood was concentrated onto me making me three quarters angel, one quarter human; not half of each."

Isabelle pouted then made a _face._ Clary observed her for a minute. It wasn't like a regular face. It was suspicious, like she was digging up lost memory and trying to bring it back up to the surface.

"I should have realized this sooner…" The dark haired girl too her turn to observe her friend. "Clarissa Morgenstern… That last name; Morgenstern… Y- You're Valentine's child?" The name cursed Clary like saying 'bloody mary' 3 times in the mirror. She nodded. "I'm sorry…"

"For?" _Why was she apologizing? She didn't make me a target for demons, so what was there for her to be sorry about?_

"Having to be raised by him. I heard his children were whipped 10 times for not doing the smallest thing like… not saying 'sir' at the end of every sentence, or not looking him in the eye while he was talking. And… I was told stories of what happened to his children." Isabelle paused. Clary's green eyes looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

"It was said to be that they were flawless because of the extra demon and or angel blood, I'm not sure. They… they could fight like 10 warriors at 10 years old. They had extra abilities, but no one dared to ask of what they were. Valentine had trained them since birth so they could assist him to dominate the Shadow World. Then something came up; like he committed suicide or even surrendered so he could be sentenced to death. I'm not sure why he would have wanted that, but it's what I heard."

There was a long silence between them. Clary debated whether she should share every detail of her life with Izzy, her first and best friend. They were close, but how well could she trust a girl like Izzy who was so social and popular while she was in her shadow; not that she minded.

She was willing to take the risk.

"What you heard was wrong," said Clary in a low voice. She started to walk around the bathroom tiles while catching glimpses of herself in the mirrors. "My dad started to teach me the ways of the Shadowhunters when I could crawl." Clary spoke slowly, careful with her wording. "He was partially Chinese and that, for some reason, seemed to let him believe he had a right to be strict. He gave me my first stele at 2, and my first blade at 5. My brother and I were taught to be perfect in his eyes… always having the perfect posture, speaking fluently in the most common languages, and having the perfect mind and body for Shadowhunting." Her face darkened. "Once eczema kicked in for both my brother and I, he felt his plan of hurting his wife to change us, and training us to perfection, was all wasted. He _was_ going to use us to dominate the Shadow World, that was true; but, we couldn't be used to help him anymore. That resulted to his attempt in summoning the father of all demons." She paused. "It burned him alive."

Clary took a glance at herself in the mirror. A tear was going down the corner of her eye. She refused to cry. It was a sign of weakness, something her dad forbid her to show.

"My dad never whipped us. He could be patient if he wanted, but if we did do something he didn't like, we'd be punished somehow. Extra chores, extra training hours, no stele for a month; but nothing as brutal as direct physical pain."

"No stele. Damn, that must have been hard." Izzy put a hand on her best friends' shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be," the feisty redhead snapped. Her body quickly tensed, then softened as she realized how fast she had reacted. "What he did made me stronger. I'm proud of it, not ashamed."

The deepness of the conversation reached a whole new level. Clarissa wanted to break down. Not Clary. Clary would have done it on the spot, but Clarissa was different. She may have had low self-esteem, but she strong.

Just then, the bell rang.

* * *

The rest of the day went on in silence. Neither Clary or Isabelle talked to each other unit the end of the day when they saw each other at their lockers. It felt as if they had both fought, but really, they just had a misunderstanding of Clarissa's past.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, Izzy. I just… I'm not use to letting people in." The flawless girl completely understood. She didn't like having people ask her personal questions either. It made her feel insecure.

Taking her time, she opened her locker and watched Clary open hers with caution. She was afraid her stele would roll out of her locker…

"Come over to the Institute," she blurted out. Immediately, she wanted to take it back.

"I… I would but…"

"Come on, it'll be fun. I promise, no brotherly influences." Clary hesitated.

"Why don't you come over instead?" Now it was Clary's turn to wish she never opened up her mouth.

"Sure!" They hugged it out in the end.

* * *

"OMG!" Izzy started to squeal once Clary showed her the training area/basement. The smaller girl was momentarily confused. "We can _train_ together. It'll be so much fun! Maybe even become _parabatai_!"

"Woah… Izzy, um… not that I don't want to do everything you just mentioned but, I just picked up training _yesterday_. And, I just got back my stele _yesterday_. It's been barely 12 hours, I'm still trying to process everything."

The two separated as Isabelle began to run around in awe at the weaponry. Clary was careful to guard her and her brothers' sword. It was just a precaution their father always constantly told them to take.

_"Don't let anyone wield these blades," _their father had said. "_You two may hold one another's, but not anyone else. It'll burn them alive._"

Burn them alive. Just like what he was when he summoned the father of all demons. Had he never been told _not_ so summon demons since he was a Shadowhunter?

"What do you want to start with?" asked Clary politely.

"Whip!" Isabelle's signature golden snake whip uncoiled from her wrist. Clary shrugged and grabbed her silver one by the rack. This wasn't just the Morgenstern training stash. It was legendary. All weapons were created by the Iron Sisters on a personal connection, custom made.

"All right," sighed Clary, then firing up the magical whip.

The flashes of gold and silver were blinding within the confined basement. Not much could be seen until the end when Clary had tied up her best friend with both their whips.

"You gotta teach me that," demanded Isabelle as Clary untied her.

"My dad did, and I'm still out of practice. Give me some time to get use to runes again at least," chuckled the redhead.

They both took a seat on the couch, away from the training space. A comfortable silence.

"I can't believe I've known you for 3 years, and I didn't know you were a Shadowhunter."

"I expected that you were one," admitted Clary. Izzy's eyes opened wide and her attention was fully on her. "I chose not to push on the subject though," she continued. "Your runes flickered from their glamours, but that could have just been me hallucinating." Clary knew what her powers could do. It could drive her insane. "The extra blood in me could have ignited something. I haven't had runes for the past 5 years. That extra blood was being put to no use so it could have made me see things or… wish for things."

"I'm sorry," sighed Izzy.

"For?"

"Having extra blood." Clary didn't know how many times she had told Izzy within the past 10 minutes of how she didn't need to be sorry, but the girl just wouldn't stop.

"It's not something that would have effected the way I was brought up anyhow. I'd still be trained the same way, taught the same things… built to be strong. Bravery was another thing my dad enforced. He use to say; 'being brave and being strong aren't that hard to decipher. Being strong is having physical strength and resistance to temptations, to pain, and to weaknesses. Being brave is having courage, to take risks, and to have confidence no matter what anybody says. It's all just you.'"

"Which one did he want more?" asked Isabelle. She seemed to regret doing so right after.

"Strength. He didn't want us to give in to the opposing side of the uprising; meaning the Clave. He wanted us to act as his robots, built up to be exactly what he wants. But, I didn't really care about what he wanted, or said he needed. I wanted to be brave."

Clarissa had no clue why she was telling Isabelle everything her father said not to tell anyone but Jonathan. They could be _parabatai_ one day if they kept this up.

"What about you? If you had to choose, what would you want?"

"I'd like strength," said Isabelle. She didn't seem to fear it. "I'm good at resisting my temptations. Pain, not so much. Weakness, I'm all right."

"That just means you aren't brave," said Clary. It was also from what her father had said. "It's impossible to be both. It's either bravery or strength." However, there was an extra line he always had said to himself which Clary use to always pick up on. "But for you two, it's possible to be both."

* * *

"Of course I am, just not as much as I am strong," Izzy giggled. The two stood up again, as if reading each others minds. They battled it out again with whips until they both got too tired and exhausted to carry on.

"Want to stay for dinner?" asked Clarissa politely when she put her weapons away.

"Sure, if your mom doesn't mind." She knew her mother wouldn't mind at all. She'd be more than 'delighted' for Izzy to stay over. It would probably be even better now, now that they knew each other's secret.

"Um… Izzy?" Clary looked at her carefully. Once they reach Clary's bedroom and the door is closed, she continued her question. "Remember when you first introduced me to Simon?" Clary had no clue where the question came from, but it seemed like a good time to ask since they were spilling all their biggest secrets today.

"Yes, why?" Isabelle's face tightened.

"Well... that day, you said, 'date him, you die. He's mine.' Is that still um... Is that still going on?"

"Who told you that and why would you assume so?" she pointed her finger directly at the redhead's heart.

"I just kinda observed and you know how close I am with Simon," she shrugged.

"Only you know. Do _not_ open your mouth about this, please?" Izzy was on her knees.

"Izzy," Clary said as she helped her up. "Why are you afraid of liking him?"

"Apparently, I'm 'overqualified' to be with someone like him who is so… _under_ my league. But I swear he's above me," she explained quietly.

The redhead sighed.

"Why should you be afraid of what anyone thinks?"

"It's a reputation I have to keep? And I doubt that Simon likes me for my personality, just my looks. That's what everyone likes. They don't like _me_." She looked as if she were about to break down and cry.

"What about you?" she choked out.

"Me?"

"You're a 16 year old girl who hasn't had her first boyfriend yet. There's got to be at least a crush down there." Clary stayed silent. She didn't need people to get to her like that.

"I know… I just… I don't even know him." _I know he's a player who hits on all the asian looking girls. I just look more white._

_ "Well,_ then _get_ to know him… whoever he is. What's his name?" asked Izzy slightly confused.

"He's someone," replied Clary, not even sure of herself. She wasn't even sure whether it was even a crush…

"I'll get it out of you one day Morgenstern. One day…" her best friend declared in a witch's voice and cackle. They both laughed, just as if nothing ever happened.


	6. Training at Starbucks with French Fries

p class="p1"emstrongHOLY HELL, THIS CHAPTER IS LONG OVERDUE. RAQUEL HAS BEEN WATCHING ALL SORTS OF ANIME THESE PAST TWO MONTHS AND IS STARTING TO LOSE HER TMI OBSESSION! ANY ADVICE HERE? PLEASE?/strong/em/p 


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